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Pehotfski, Marian
"Krokodil" Magai;ine: Laughter in the Soviet Onion.
76
12p.; Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the
Association for Education in Journalism (49th,
College Park, Maryland, July 31-August 4, 1976)
2DRS PHICE
DESC3IPT0HS
IDENTIFIERS
MF-$C,83 HC--$1,67 Plus Postage.
^Editing; *Foreign Language Periodicals; *Humor;
Journalism; ^Periodicals; *Publications; Russian ;
Russian Literature ; Satire
♦Krokodil; *Popular Culture
ABSTRACT
A 16-page , four-color -on-newsprint magazine,
"Krokodil" is among the world's most popular magazines of humor and
satire. As a product of the Pravda Publishing House, it is produced
by a branch of the Central Committee of the Communist Party, yet
there are no official taboos or guidelines. Connections, popularity,
and profits give "Krokodil" clout. Paid circulation is at six million
only because of a paper shortage and inadequate presses which already
run 24 hours a day. Contributing to the success of "Krokodil" are its
role as national ombudsman between public and government, strong
reader identity, reputation for responding quickly to complaints,
grass-roots connections, excellent relations with freelancers, and
the strong, innovative character of the magazine, (Author/AA)
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* via the ERIC Document Reproduction Service (EDRS) . EDRS is not *
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Krokodll Magazine: Laughter in the Soviet Union
Marian Pehowski
College of Journalism
Marquette University
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 53233
Paper submitted for the Magazine Division,
Association for Education in Journalism
College Park, Maryland
July, 1976
Krokodil Magazine: Laughter in the Soviet Union
Twenty million Soviet readers ~ and perhaps other millions determined not
to dignify "that magazine'* by reading it ~ surely know the significance of a
tiny, rampant crocodile holding a harpoon like a scepter. The amiable creature
which, folklore says, grins as ic swallows Its victims and weeps later, tops the
masthead of Krokodil , the Soviet Union's unsinkable magazine success. A 16-
page, four-color-on-newsprint magazine with 36 issues a year, Krokodil is
amon^ the world's most popular magazines of humor and satire.
Undeniably a political creature, Krokodil — going strong at 54 — does
not merely pursue human folly at home and abroad c It regularly bites the hand
that feeds it. Edited on the top floor of the carefully secured Pravda Publishing
House, Krokodil is sustained in minimal office style but considerable prestige
by Pravda 's connection to the Central Committee of the Communist Party, the
Soviets' ultimate power source.
Even the newest reader knows that Krokodil seldom, if ever, flouts official
directives of the Central Committee. (Officially, '»a Pravda man" is a member of
the magazine's editorial board, but "he does not come (to meetings) very often",
according to other members. Some Krokodil editors contend that the link to Pravda
is even more slender: *'We share the accounting offices, garage and technical
services — period.")
ERIC
Clearly the magazine does not "make^' political policy except in the sense
that while it pursues issues at will it both forms and reflects public opinion.
Krokodil nips — hard at social types and specific individuals, including some
high up within the system, who do not measure up to the ideals of the Soviets'
planned society. Still, from government or party there are no official taboos
or even ''guidelines'*, the editors insist.
A cartoon cover from December, 1975 (No. 35/75) depicts street crime in
outlying neighborhoods of large cities, despite the Patrolled (or "laundered'^)
streets like those which tourists ciC^- near Moscow's Red Square. At a murky
streetlamp two very young toughs mug a citizen. Meanwhile five burly male
commuters — eyes front — rush past in lock step , breathlessly uninvolved. The
caption says "Police!' Mugging, still shocking to Soviet city-dwellers, combines
with the universal don' t-get-involved trait, The humor here, as elsewhere j
defies description, however. The inept young criminals, the victim's help-
lessness (minus his hat and dignity) on the sidevalk, and the selfish retreat
of the gasping city men probably say enough.
"One Way Conversation' captions another cover from May, 1976 (No. 15/76).
The situation is again particular to current Soviet life but also universal in
human experience. On his feet^a self-important middle-management bureaucrat,
fascinated by his own voice > bawls into one of his four telephones. Aware that
the man's hair, hands, glasses nnd papers are flying, the reader also notice^
that the telephone earpieces all wre thick, neat bandages. Eve: i .i a planned
society, some citizens opt out- they hear only what they want.
Obviously there are lessons ' in such vignettes. Above all, they are funny
wlile true to human nature. Nearer the fringe of fantasy are such cartoons as
another from the above issue (No. 15/76 . p. lA) , Three rather bored panelists
watch a fourth speaker — an author, perhaps, or a committee functionary? —
who has ended his talk in tears and holding a gun to his head. 'Seems to me he's
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carrying self-criticism too far,' one of the three observes. IJhile self-
evaluation may be encouraged in some Soviet circles, obviously too much is enough.
Brash, determined Krokodil itself is no mere dispassionate observer of
the passing scene. Occasionally boisterous and even sentimental, the magazine's
humor is both topical and timeless. Above all., it is persistently moral,
concerned with the "right'' and "wrong" of issues and individuals, whom it judges
by the values of the socialist state and the dogma of the Communist party.
Obviously some values shift with the political tides. (For one thing, detente
has created some problems in depicting capitalistic America. "Frankly, editing
was easier before — when we didn't have to like you," Krokodil 's foreign
editors point out, half in jest, to an American. Krokodil seems to meet that
problem by stressing the aspects of America that even Americans deplore: crime,
pollution, CI. c jents posing as diplomats. An occasional fat-cat financial titan
— complete with pera hat — seems to be an irresistible stereotype, however.
Since the values of the state-supported "nex^; morality" are not necessarily
or totally rejections of the old values once associated with church, home and
czar, and since humor universally acknowledges humanity, Krokodil probably does
not need a more specific magazine formula. Oriented to the news of the day,
keyed to prevailing socio-political ethicu, and employing verbal and visual
humor ranging from bald cartoon to subtle parody and from the one-liner to the
unique fiction of the modern Russian feuilleton (a story naming people with their
true names) Krokodil claims an unusually broad range of ages and interests in
its readership.
If it does not quite have "something for everyone", despite the addition
of this year's innovation, Satirobus, a youth magazine-within-the-magazine once
a month, Krokodil probably comes as close as any Soviet publication does — or
perhaps as any magazine anyv;here can. In the USSR, as in the USA, there has never
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been agreement among mass media critics that a magazine can serve *eaders of all
ages, or even should try.
Somewhat doctrinaire and hardly subtle, the experimental Satirobus is
credited to Krokodil ^s new young editor, Evgeny Dubrovin- His other contributions
include the International Roundup section, selected news from abroad. An
Associated Press wirephoto (uncredited) , showing a white Rhodesian x^oman taking
a stroll while protected by two armed guards and a dog suggests the heavy
irony — or leaden wit — favored on a page which may yet be in a shakedoOT
period. Under Dubrovin, Krokodil conducts more frequent editorial crusades
against ..uch aggravations as shoddy consumer goods. (Poor shoes were scored
in May, although the Minister of Light Industry also got his chance to explain,)
Lorg stories run in installments are also more frequent.
Krokodil has become a national institution because of its familiar successes
rather than its novelty. Its ^^allery of reco<?,ni gable social types includes such
ubiquitous figures as the birdbrained boss, the battle-axe mocher, the all-thumbs
public servant, the foggy spy, the drunk (sometimes treated sympathetically,
sonetLr^e?; with alarm or annoyance — perhaps because alcoliolism is still a
serious problem among Soviet workers), the thieving factory hand, the lazy office
assistant or indifferent shop clerk, among others.
Humorous treatment of them as well as of specific issues urges reform ratl^er
than revolt. Against a political background, Krokodil still fights — and refights
— the battle of the sexes, although the magazine is only rarely sexist, and
then is mildly so as it exploits pneumatic endo^ents on the female frame.
However women readers seem unoffended, perhaps since art follows life and obviously
many Soviet females are physically v;ell-endowed .
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ERIC
Krokodil also admits the generation gap (youthful adulation of rock music
stars is a favorite target) and the Pyotor principle that things^ are bound to
gO wrong, as well as a peculiarly Soviet version of the existential cry before
the abyss. In the USSR, however, since Marx, Lenin and later leaders have
presumably prescribed the evential cure for society's ills, and since the
individual is, above all, a social being, public angst is not inspired by some
vague yawning void but rather trembles in outrage before liters daily pitfalls
and inevitable pratfalls.
A recent issue of K rokodil (again for convenience. No. 15/76) illustrates
the range of subjects and their treatments. Amid amusing fillers, mini-
editorials, brief reprints and light verse, the articles and short stories
include a substantial one about financial relations between a building construc-
tion company and a tenant farm. Tliis time, for a change, the farmers are "bad''
and the builders are 'good*'. Mext, the poor organization of the transit
industry in Soviet Asia is deftly worked over in an article, and then the shoddy
shoe crisis Is debated. A whimsical tale, 'Bridegroom on IJheels", about a
professional husband follows. The final page length article proposes that
Ronald Reagan has no chance as a U.S. presidential candidate because he is a
reactionary at a time when voters want moderation. Furthermore, his use of
the Soviets as a threat to America simply is not convincing, the writer contends.
All of these are hardly laughing matters — unless one recalls that topical
humor calls upon the concerns of the day and that political satire freely
savages ''the opposition/'
Among the departments and on-going features there is the same combination
of eminently sober subjects and light treatments. The newest department deals
with environmental pollution. Under an Ingenious logo. The Flower and the Gear,
In which a white daisy meshes neatly with a black gear against a grass green
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background, readers are invited to become contributors by offering their solutions
to environmental problems. Substantial cash prizes are offered, and early
responses arc promising;, editors report.
The environmental cartoons are attention -getters , Indeed all cartoons
have high quality art x</ork for visual appeal, but they also have a point
which sticks in the mind. The merely zany would be rare in Krokodil. One
environmental panel depicts a modern country lass heading for a city. Bearing
the familiar shoulder yoke, she does not carry pails of milk or water to the
smoggy town but instead has two balloon^ labelled ''pure air." In another panel
an insr^ection team stares dutifully into a stream heavily polluted by draining
waste. Yet can things be so bad when contented fish and water fowl swim
past? Yes — since behind a large sewer pipe x^orkmen inflate and launch
beach toys and bath-tub ducks to fool the naive.
Other cartoons in this typical issue larabast favorite Krokodil targets like
the bootlicking e- -^loyee so subservient that when his sportman-boss practices
archery the underling seizes the arrow in flight and obligingly runs it to
the buUseye. Then there is the female citizen who would rather not operate
the little s tate-o»^Tied convenience shop that supports her. Instead, it is
padlocked and she wears her hat as she puzzles over v;hich of several signs to
post for the day: Out to Lunch, Closed for Dinner, Public Holiday, Closed for
Inspection, or others.
Of the Ik cartoons in the issue, most are didactic and editorial- The
rest are wry comments on human nature, particularly the half-dozen panels
reprinted from the quality humor magazines of other socialist countries like
Poland and Hungary. From the latter, for example, comes the panel where the
soft-hearted visitor tiptoes away from the lion cage at the zoo. Inside, the
shaggy toy-like beast has broken open the loaf tossed in presumably for a treat.
Inside that , there is a file. Somebody understands about cages.
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ERIC
The hypothesis that Krokodil probably could have even greater circulation
than at present is mentioned among Soviet journalists but cannot be tested.
A serious, long-term paper shortage and the inadequacy of presses which already
run 24 hours a day necessarily limit PCrokodil to six million copies per issue.
The magazine has 90?"^ subscription readers at about $7.00 per year. The
remaining 10% comes from news stand sales where, at about 20 cents a copy,
Krokodil vanishes rapidly-
Certainly Krokodil has its detractors, although few actual competitors.
The stiff est challenge probably comes from The Society of the Twelve Chairs'^
a single newspaper page in the weekly Literaturnaya Hazetta ( Literary Gazette) .
It is a publication of admittedly higher cerebral ambitions than Krokodil,
which aims for the funnybone before the head. (The aim is lower do\,m,
Krokodil 's enemies insist — more like the shins and the rear.) Americans
may note that while Krokodil has handled the recent news of CIA covert activities
abroad somewhat less caustically than have some segments of the American press
itself, Literaturnaya Gazetta's editor is being challenged in a Moscow court
by Alfred Friendly, Jr. of Newsweek, one of the three American correspondents
he has labelled CIA agents. One suspects that such news broadened the
Krokodil grin wickedly.
Nonetheless, there are those deliberate non-readers who find Krokodil
low-brow, disrespectful, hackneyed, dated, propagandis tic , negative ~ and
maddeningly successful. That final point at least has business-ledger proof.
Carrying no advertising, Krokodil makes no less than 20 million rabies
(nearly $30 million)" annually. That amount helps support some of the less
popular Pravda periodicals. The first 100,000 copies of each edition pay
Krokodirs bills. "Then it's like printing money, ' as one editor puts it.
Although important political connections and strong profits give Krokodil
clout, there is, above all, the undeniable wallop of its popularity. It is
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hardly enough to say that Russian culture has had a long line of humorists
or that Europe has a history of successful humor magazines. No magazine lives
long on reputation alone. Krokodil' s readers say the magazine is lively,
anti-elitist, timely, informed^ a socialist safety valve, realistic^ consis-
tently well edited, literally laughable, and "the best thing about the posta]
system/' Clearly all readers do not concur, but there are certain traits
which emerge from the welter of fact and opinion about Krokodil , from observa-
tion of its pages and discussion v;ith its editors. There may also be a few
lessons for American magazines ^
Despite the efforts of both the Soviet government and the Communist
party to emphasize that the citizens constitute the state and that officials
serve the people, there is nonetheless an enormous (perhaps inevitable)
communications gap between public and government.
Decidedly aimed at mass readership — which, however , seems to include
intellectuals in about the same proportion as they occur in the population —
Krokodil has taken on the role of ombudsman be tx^7een the public and the
government .
If this particular ombudsman also has x-;atchdog qualities and can look in
tv/o directions at once so much the better, it seems. Hhat Krokodil sees in its
restless surveillance of Soviet life becomes the material in print every 10
days. There is thus an unbeatable immediacy about the magazine's content.
Furthermore, because the magazine has earned the confidence of the public which
buys it and the government v;hich, through Pravda's inclusion on the Cultural
Committee, sanctions its existence, Krokodil has innumerable reliable sources for
first-hand information.. Thus it has the makings of credibility « Its tenacity
at surviving in the middle ground between the populace and th Jreaucracy is
indicated by the fact that despite Stalin, or war, or other upheavals, Kr okodil
has never closed down since its first issue appeared in 1922.
S^^^^^^ ^%a^^^ identify vital to Krokodil . The magazine may scold Ivan
an^ Ta^y^ ^^^^^^^^^sly for b^^^g ^^ss than perfect, but done x>;ith a smile (or
tue r^^^ic^ne of ^^oted scorn when that seems necessary) it is the
advi^^ ^^^^'^d^^ t^eers. Coi^^^^sely, Krokodil also lauds excellence. Since
goviS'i^niu^^^ of^^^i-^ls, party ^^^ctionaries and others in authority are also
iQ^^^^y^^d^ or ealied account in the magazine there is little evident
favaJ^^t^'^^ of ^lite or pD'^^^^rful- In its use of current but not notably
sl^^gy ;l^^^U^§^ ^^^SlSS-^ii SqU^^^ like the man on the street. Better yet, it
Th^ P^oof the m^ijt'^^s, Krokodil receives an average of 500 letters
^ da/' ^^^^ il-^^ged, t'onte^ ^nd answered. Many are also fon>7arded to agencies
for (With tb^ Advent of consumerism in the Soviet Union,
howeV^i?^ -^^^Si^^^^i^ ^^^^ ^J^^lare a moratorium on packages of undesirable
mer^li^n^J^^^ o^ innundat^^' Shox^ and tell is now out: letters are fine.
£v^^^ 1^ ^a/^ "^^^ letters" when selected ones are shared by the
staff' ^^^^ ji^Si^odjO^ Tiio^^ popular articles have orginated there. For
one ^ ^i^^^^^ ^^Idavia vr^^^ that the local night school for agricultural
\<for\^efs ^ ^e^^^^^ nev^^ taught anyone. Instead, the instructor sat in
the ^Ja^^^^^^ tired ^^r^ Workers stayed home. Yet the school was con-
sid^jr^d ^^^^^0^ statist^^^^ ''proved'' education of the masses. Foreign
editc?!-' ^^^t to t^^ community, wrote an amusing account of the
shatn ^^h^^''' ^^^^ l<2^^ers poured in. 'It's like that in my town, too"
^j^e ^^^^ rti^^^'- leading realistic night school plans by unionists and
educ^ C^X:0'
^X]-^ (?^^haps impo^^^^l^ Moscow editors to stay very close to
grass-^^^o^;^^ r^^^g<^^tp in a co«^^^ry spread across eight time zones, Kro kodil
stimuJ^t^^ Ve^^^^ds to let^^^^s to discover local attitudes. (Admittedly for
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some letters there are no ansx>;ers at hand. Mliat to do about the Siberian
reader who v7rote that while he did not mind the x^jinter weather a bit, the
summers are too hot — and what would Krokodil do about it? Every action-line
has its limits.)
If Krokodil ^s staff ever runs short of idean, there is little danger since
the magazine adheres to the iron rule of Soviet journalism that periodicals should
have at least 402 freelance material to assure the public's voice. In Krokodil 's
case the percentage is 70%. IJhile rates are competitive (around $40 a type-
written page), prestige is high and rapport^/the editors on the 40-person staff
and the contributors is good. The celebrated Krokodil cartoons are 95% from
freelance artists and are selected at coolly critical staff meetings presided
over by the single staff artist.
Very likely Krokodi l succeeds because it meets a communications need in
its country, it knows its readers and its sources for material and it is well
run. Among the hallmarks of magazine success, however, a final one cannot be
underestimated. Over the years, Krokodil has evolved a strong, recognizable,
appealing character, and it maintains its familiar identity while also being
innovative and fresh. This duality is the open secret of Krokodil* s success —
and the universal editorial lesson that it is folly to ignore.
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